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Yes, Minister	By : Nerys Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Hermione/Voldemort Views: 12940 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Yes, Minister
Chapter 4: Flee From Danger
Rose wondered if this place was a maze of some kind. She walked through corridor after corridor. When she thought she was far enough away, she tried to locate a door in the seemingly endless walls. Just like the room she'd fled from, there had to be doors hidden from sight. One of them was bound to lead out of here. She just had to find the right one. She checked behind her and began casting. It wasn't a charm taught at Hogwarts, but one her mother had invented. It revealed what people tried to keep hidden. She'd used it before as a joke on people who'd used Concealing Charms on their pimples to much hilarity of her fellow Slytherins.
This, however, was a more serious approach. Rose wasn't sure it would work if the doors were properly warded. When she slashed her wand ahead of her, the charm visibly blasted through the corridors as far as her eye could see. To her relief, the walls shimmered with a yellowish light, bellowing before spitting out the square outlines of doors. A small smile grew on her face.
She'd done it.
Quickly she stepped to the first door, opened it, and saw a bulky man hanging from the ceiling on his wrists. There were heavy weights strapped to his legs, which clearly made the stress on his arms unbearable. When he saw her with a wand in her hand, he screamed at her to help him. She tried, but anything she cast on the chains only added more and more weights to the man's legs. She tried removing the weights and swore she heard a muscle tear as he screamed out in pain, but he kept telling her to continue. She feared if she cast anything else, he'd be torn in half right before her eyes.
'Sorry,' she whispered and closed the door behind her, running away.
The second door she'd barely opened a millimeter before the stench of human excrements reached her nose, and she closed it without checking further.
Door after door after door had rooms filled with the stuff of nightmares. None of the rooms had windows of any kind, making her wonder if they were underground. She felt bad whenever she shut the door in the face of another desperate person, but she really couldn't help them. She didn't trust most of them either. There was a hunger in their eyes that made her eager to get away. She had to get out and find Uncle Harry. He'd know what to do. He could help these people.
She took a left turn and groaned when another seemingly never ending corridor showed itself to her. She was on the verge of giving up when her mother's voice echoed through her mind.
Leave, damn it.
It pushed her back into motion. She couldn't give up. If he were to capture her again, he'd catch her on her feet, fighting, not in surrender. She found another door several meters in. There seemed to be no logic or reason to the spacing between doors. The rooms all seemed of equal size, so shouldn't the doors be at similar intervals?
Perhaps she missed some of them?
Perhaps the ones better hidden would lead out of this place?
She tried yet another visible door. With all the experiences she'd had so far, she only opened it a tiny crack when a roar sounded. A huge Norwegian Ridgeback raised its head and spread its wings as far as the chamber allowed it. Whitehot flames spewed from its mouth towards her. She yelped, ducking behind the door's wood for cover and trying to shut it. The door burned against the palms of her hands as flames pushed back, licking through the tiny crack as its force made it unable for her to close the door fully. She dropped her wand and put all her weight into it, ignoring the pain in her hands. The blast of fire had reached its end and she slammed the door shut right when the whole wall trembled from a massive impact, a clear sign the dragon had crashed into the door.
She stepped back, looking on in shock when parts of her skin and flesh tore off, having fused with the door. She hadn't even felt it. Her body shook all over as she examined the third degree burns on her hands, the blackness of her flesh, and the flaps of skin dangling at the back of her hands. She had some bad burns before when helping out Charlie with his dragons, but nothing like this and never on her hands. She needed her wand. It lay a couple of feet away and she carefully picked it up, barely able to move her fingers. She hoped she'd be able to cast properly like this.
What idiot kept a dragon inside?
She pointed her wand at her left hand and cast the specialised anti-dragon-burn charm Charlie had taught her.
Instant relief flooded her when it worked.
The blackened flesh healed and skin wrapped back around her fingers and palms. It wasn't perfect. Her skin was redder than usual. Several scars marred her palms and her fingers felt stiffer than normally as she tested what luckily turned out to be a full range of motion.
She quickly did the same to the other hand and leaned with her back against the wall opposite of the dragon's room, trying to steady her nerves. How many more nasty surprises had this place in store for her?
Go to Harry.
Trying.
Don't trust anyone else.
She never did. Trust didn't come natural to Rose, unlike Hugo who easily made friends with everyone around him. She envied that ability, wishing she was more likable. People often found her annoying. Too bossy. Some of them had dared share that assessment to her face. Others preferred to whisper behind her back. Those were the ones she loathed the most.
Cowards.
They all ended up at the hospital wing eventually with rather debilitating, embarrassing inflictions. Often that would get her victims a scolding from the nurse and a lecture on the safety of their behaviours, which made her vengeance even sweeter. She knew some of them suspected her involvement, but they never could prove it or dared mention it. She supposed they would love seeing her now. She knew she would've.
She counted her steps this time to the next door.
Twenty.
After the last experience she reluctantly opened it, her shoulder leaning against the wood to close it as fast as possible if needed. The soft hiss said enough, and she slammed the door shut without looking.
Snake.
She shivered, not feeling the need at all to identify which type. She might be in Slytherin but she was no fan of any type of creepy crawler. Albus had once given her a lecture on the difference between snakes and bugs, but she really couldn't care less. Even Lily's damn Pigmy Puff needed to stay the fuck away from her. Those things bred like bunnies.
Fucking pests.
This time it was twenty-one steps when she got to the next door. When she opened it, the whole floor shook from the charging of what could only be an Erumpent. She sighed. Had she entered a damn farm or something?
Blasted creatures.
She'd dropped Care for Magical Creatures the first chance she got, wondering why anyone would even bother caring for stinking filthy animals. The only animals she didn't mind were the unicorns, because they had the good sense to keep the hell away from her.
Twenty steps again, and now there was a Hippogriff eyeing her. This was her chance. She bowed low and waited. When it bowed back at her, she looked up, her eyes counting how many steps she'd have to take inside of the room to reach the wall. A lot less than should be. The Hippogriff moved to her, and she petted its nose.
Okay, she had to admit that some creatures were, sort of, somewhat tolerable. The exceptions to the rule.
'Thank you,' she whispered, leaving the door open so it could escape, too.
She turned and looked back, estimating where the door that hadn't shown itself should be. She jumped when a wet nose pressed into her back, pushing her forward. When the hippogriff stopped, it bristled loudly. It was an odd noise coming from an eagle's beak.
'Here?' she asked out loud, looking back at the expectant Hippogriff.
Her hand investigated the wall. Her heart skipped a beat when she realised every inch of her being screamed at her to move on. Now she realised she'd felt that urge before in other corridors and had listened to it. This time, she pushed that desire away and flicked her wand at the wall. Sweat accumulated on her brow as she had to string along her casting to remove ward after ward after ward. When she dismantled the final one, a door appeared. She took a deep breath, placed her hand on the doorknob and hesitated.
What if this wasn't a way out?
What if those wards were an indication of the threat level of whatever was inside?
That ridgeback had gotten close to frying her. If there were anything worse inside here, she wasn't sure she'd survive it. She got another nudge from the Hippogriff.
What could possibly be worse than Lord Voldemort?
Fingers crossed. Figuratively.
She kept her wand at the ready as she opened the door. In relief, she lowered her wand when it showed a staircase instead of another dangerous creature. She held the door wide for the creature behind her when it suddenly opened its beak and flooded the corridors with high-pitched whistling. Rose looked around nervously.
See, this is why you don't hold animals.
Too bloody loud.
The Hippogriff threw his front paws in the air and charged away. Rose stared at its disappearing figure in fear, suddenly sensing the approaching darkness.
Voldemort.
She whirled inside and rushed up the stairs, hearing the door fall in its lock behind her. There were so many steps she cursed the Dark Lord for not having put in a lift. However, when she saw light beaming from above, she forgot her exhaustion and pushed on. Out of breath, she found herself in a circular hallway with dark-brown doors all around her—a glass dome above her let in a beam of light. She scrunched up her nose. She'd thought it was natural light, but now she wasn't so sure anymore. It looked like sunlight but surely it couldn't be already? She had no idea of the time, but would it be morning already?
It should be September First now, making the sun rise still relatively early.
She flicked her wand, causing the time and date to appear in midair. Her jaw dropped. Only a quarter past two?!
She could barely believe it. It had felt like she'd been here forever.
However, that settled the light issue. Definitely artificial.
Now, which door to pick out of the six?
They were all identical. She randomly walked to one and pulled it open to a landscape of hills filled with snow and ice. An avalanche rumbled down in the distance. She nearly got frostbite just by looking at it and quickly closed the door. With only her T-shirt on, she wasn't stepping into that environment.
To her absolute horror, the room began rotating upon her closure of the door. Faster and faster until she fell to her hands and knees, feeling positively sick and dizzy. When it finally stopped, she got to her feet wobbly, still feeling that spinning sensation and staggering to get to the wall. She'd no idea which door she'd opened before.
'Flagrate!' she cast, marking the door before her with a fiery cross and opening it.
Opposite of her a gigantic waterfall thundered down into a lake several meters beneath her feet. She stepped back ever so slightly, afraid to fall in. Her eyes roamed the environment. Large trees and verns surrounded the shores of the massive lake with its beautiful turquoise coloured water. The waterfall reached up so high she couldn't see where it had tipped over. She grabbed the rims of the doorframe and leaned in slightly, looking up. A bright sun shone into her face, but other than that, she couldn't make out anything. There was no visible path away from the lake. This place was a death trap. She pushed back, letting the door fall shut and dropping to her knees in advance of the spinning. Her stomach churned.
When the floor was finally done spinning around, she grumbled, hoping the next door would lead to somewhere familiar. She looked around, eyes searching for her cross, when the realisation hit her that it was gone. Her identifying marker was somehow erased. This was going to take forever.
Asshole.
She grabbed the next door in irritation, hoping it wouldn't be either of the two she'd already seen and pulled it open. Nighttime forest sounds reached her ears. Her nose smelled the familiarity of pine and oak. It smelled like home. Her eyes took in the path curving through the bushes and trees. An owl hooted. She leaned in, hands on the doorframe again, looking up at the stars through the treetops and seeing a waning crescent moon. It fitted with what she'd seen yesterday.
Perhaps this would be the way out and home?
A rustling noise drew her attention to the bush directly on her right. She stifled a scream when a huge, blond-haired werewolf pushed through the branches on all fours. It was so big its head reached all the way up to her waist. She backed up fast, trying to slam the door shut, but with a fluent move belying its enormous size, the were had already risen on his hind legs and slammed his claw-like hand on the door, forcing it out of her hand as she staggered away. The half-wolf, half-man stepped into the circular hallway, having to duck to not hit his head on the frame as he held the door in hand. Unlike his completely hairy back, his front revealed more human skin through the blond hairs, showing off his muscular chest and six pack. His cock was inhumanly thick and large and it only stood half-mast. It wasn't even a full moon, which meant this was one of those cursed, dangerously dark creatures that shouldn't exist. Those weres sought out, enjoyed and relished the werewolf lifestyle. His yellow eyes took in her frightened figure as she backed farther and farther away, clutching to her wand.
'Come on, boys, there's a snack right outside the passageway!' the blond were shouted over his shoulders.
If there were more of them, they were stealthy enough to go unnoticed, but she wasn't going to wait for their appearance.
'Get back into the forest and I won't curse you,' she hissed.
The blond werewolf merely laughed. 'You think you've got enough power to take us all, little lady?'
She slashed her wand, replacing his laughter with a scream of pain as he dropped to his knees. Despite the large gaping wound in his chest that bled substantially, he still kept the door open.
'Grab her!' he yelled.
To her horror, a large group of weres came charging to the doorway on the path. She had to close off their access. With a wave of her magic, she tried to whirl the blond back inside the forest. Unfortunately, this time, the werewolf blocked her casting.
Great. He had magic.
At least he didn't have a wand. Or so she hoped. Most werewolves who embraced that animalistic side of them and no longer lived by the moon's time renounced all that was human.
She shot a second curse down the forest path, taking down one of the wolves, but it was like more and more took the place of whoever she'd shot down. She backed down, feeling a doorknob poking in her back. She reached behind her and tried to open it. Anywhere would be better than here.
It wouldn't budge.
Apparently only one door could be opened at the same time. Her eyes flickered nervously to the staircase. She'd never make it.
The werewolf with red-brown fur all over his body that charged at the front of the pack shot ropes towards her. She whirled them back to him and watched him fall smack on his face as his paws tied together. Another curse soared towards her, impacting her Shield Charm.
Great. More of them had magic.
'Avada Kedavra!' she yelled, whirling a tinier, sleek, brown werewolf through the air right before he would've jumped into the circular hallway, ignoring the furious screams of the pack as it smacked dead between them.
Again, she tried to move the blond werewolf on the ground back inside, having the feeling that if she could just get him back in that forest, he wouldn't be able to open the door without assistance, considering the way he determinedly insisted on keeping it open. His claw-like feet had dug into the wooden floor and one of his claws held on to the doorframe. She might as well have tried to move a bolted down statue. He wouldn't even slide a millimeter. To her utmost despair, his body was rapidly healing the curse she'd cast on him. She could see the wound knitting back together. That would never have happened had he been solely human. She tried another Killing Curse, but he diverted its path, blowing up one of the trees. His yellow eyes flashed and he growled,
'You'll pay for this in blood, girlie.'
Rose realised wasting her time on what clearly was the leader was pointless, and she began shooting Killing Curses into the charging pack. It caused some disarray, but there were too many of them. The black-haired one at the front was almost as big as the blond werewolf inside the circular hallway. He'd do. She waited and waited until his black claws grabbed the doorframe and he was fully in the way.
'Duro!' she yelled, watching the black-haired werewolf turn to stone and blocking the passage.
The blond were cried out in anger, having removed his arm just in a nick of time before her curse would've spread to him as well.
That should hold them up.
She whirled around, racing down the staircase. She hoped to shake them off once she got back into the corridor. Upstairs she could hear furious growls and attempts at undoing her Hardening Charm. It just made her run faster. She turned a corner, finally getting the exit in sight. She felt relieved, until the stairs started to shake from the pack's descent. They'd clearly removed her blockade. And from the sound of it, there were far too many of them chasing her. She ran. A hot breath fanned in her neck. Rose screamed and tumbled down the remaining steps when a set of claws sliced through her back. Dazed, she found herself at the bottom of the staircase on her back, seeing a shadow of a wolf fly in midair above her.
'Avada Kedavra!'
His dead body blasted away in a flash of green. The rest of his pack behind him howled in anger. Panicking, she aimed up the staircase.
'Bombardo!'
The staircase and anyone on it blasted away.
Desperately, she scrambled to her feet. She had to get out of here before that blast would succumb to gravity and the staircase's debris would bury her alive. Panting heavily, she grabbed the doorknob and swirled outside, slamming the door shut and aiming her wand.
'Collorportus!'
She turned and ran, knowing that might not be enough if someone in that pack had survived and knew enough magic to undo her Locking Charm. As she passed the vacant Hippogriff's room, she stopped.
I could hide there and heal myself.
But would she be able to get back out? There was no knob on the other side of the door and the wards on these rooms were unlike the one she'd originally fled from. She'd be trapped. The wall vibrated as someone slammed into her locked door. Her attention drew to it, noticing the shimmer that indicated someone was tearing down her lock. That made the decision for her.
The Hippogriff's room it was.
She turned to hide inside, but to her confusion, the door swirled shut right in front of her nose without her having touched it. Realisation filled her when she sensed it. Wafts of his dark magic filled the corridor, an overwhelming show of force. She swallowed and faced him, a vengeful dark angel having dropped from the sky. There was no wind in these corridors, yet his black robes moved around his tall shape like they had a life of their own. The way his dark gaze fixated on her practically made her heart stop. He was gorgeous and absolutely terrifying.
'You've gotten yourself in a bit of a situation, haven't you, Rose?'
There was a vicious lilt to his question, his sadistic amusement shining through. His voice was barely above a whisper yet she heard him loud and clear.
The door slammed open behind her and she whirled around, clutching her wand.
Don't turn your back on Voldemort! Her mind screamed at her.
Yet that huge blond werewolf stalked into the corridor, his whole demeanour was beyond furious.
'You'll pay for their deaths,' the were growled. 'I'll skin you alive and tear out your heart while it's still beating.'
'How utterly unimaginative,' Voldemort drawled behind her.
She could only deal with one threat at the time.
'Avada Kedavra!'
But the wolf no longer had a door to hold open and moved a lot faster now. He evaded her curse and cast something wandlessly. She ducked to the floor, her hair rose at the force as it soared over her.
Maybe it would take out Voldemort?
If only she were that lucky.
She hopped back on her feet, wincing from the pain that erupted on her back and casted unlike ever before. She threw curse after curse, but despite him having to evade them, the werewolf still approached, stalking towards her while drool dripped threateningly from those large teeth.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
When the blond rolled out of the way of another one of her curses, she dared to glance briefly over her shoulder. Voldemort stood in the corridor with his shoulder leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
Rose grumbled under her breath, diving out of the path of a curse coming her way and sending back a Slicing Hex that finally broke through the werewolf's protection and sliced off his left arm right at the shoulder. It landed on the floor with a dull thud, while his blood sprayed through the corridor. The wolf threw his head back. His furious howl at losing an arm had the hairs at the back of her neck stand up straight. The wound closed rapidly, but his fur still had blood coated all over it.
'Whenever you're ready, Rose,' Voldemort's voice slithered through her mind. 'I wonder which consequences you would prefer?'
The wolf's muscles tensed as he prepared to charge. This time she was certain he was done toying with her.
Rose swirled around and ran. She couldn't believe she was actually running towards the Dark Lord of all people for protection. Voldemort didn't move. He just waited as if watching a somewhat boring show.
Rose furiously cast behind her, throwing up blockades to slow down that crazed animal out for her blood.
Fuck! I'm not going to make it.
She whirled around, seeing a set of large teeth only inches away from her face.
'Protego!' she yelled, watching the werewolf smash into her shield and fly over her head, sliding down the corridor as she smacked to the floor on her butt.
She turned on all fours, getting to her feet while watching the werewolf scramble. His paws flew in every direction before he got to his feet and turned. He was now effectively between her and Voldemort. There was no way to get to him.
Shit!
Her eyes pleaded toward the Dark Lord who stood utterly still; his robes' movement were the sole indication he was even breathing.
'Please.'
She bit her lip when he didn't react. The werewolf's huge teeth blinked as he stalked towards her, drool leaking from his chin. Then he dove towards her, this time ready for her shield. Instead of flying over her, he landed on his three paws around her body, mouth growling at her as she desperately kept her shield up with the continuous impacts it was now sustaining. She saw it flicker with every attack.
'MY LORD, PLEASE!' she yelled desperately.
Voldemort rubbed his forehead and sighed. 'Drop your wand.'
His order left her gasping in despair. She couldn't drop her wand. Was he insane? If she dropped her wand now, her shield would break and those claws would land in her body instantaneously. Her shield flickered again and again upon each impact. She looked sideways at the total disinterest the dark wizard was giving her. Maybe he would like to see her get ripped to shreds?
Maybe having those claws land inside her body was his idea of punishing her for running?
The onslaught on her shield had her wandhand shaking.
You're not going to last much longer, a voice in the back of her mind reminded her.
Closing her eyes, she tossed away her wand, sensed the disappearance of her shield around her and braced for impact. Drool fell on top of her forehead, making her wince. When nothing else happened, she opened her eyes. She immediately wished she hadn't because those yellowish inhuman eyes were right above her, looking at her in an obviously pain filled conflict. His claws were on all sides of her, having her completely boxed in. Blood dripped from his fur, despite his shoulder wound already having closed, and he bared his teeth.
'I said, heel!' Voldemort hissed.
A sound of a whip cracking whistled through the corridor. The werewolf yelped and withdrew, his posture going as low as he could with only one arm to lean on. Rose immediately scrambled back on hands and feet, until she hit the wall. She grimaced but still stayed there, rubbing her trembling hands over her bare thighs for comfort.
'You dare question my orders?' Voldemort said quietly, his robes swinging around him as he stalked around the wolf.
'She murdered my entire pack, my Lord. She's marked now. I'm entitled—'
Marked?
My back! Fuck, no.
No, no, no.
'You're entitled to what, Marcus?'
The werewolf whimpered.
'Vengeance? A new mate? Think she'll do?' Voldemort taunted, nodding sideways to Rose. 'You actually think she'll birth your pups and allow you to lead? You like them whimpering and weak, don't you? This one will tear out your throat and enjoy watching you bleed out slowly as she takes over the new pack.'
'My Lord?'
'You should thank your Lord for his leniency after you dared touch what was his.'
'I didn't know—she opened the door—I thought…'
'Go back to your forest, Marcus, before I tire of your incessant excuses.'
Rose had never seen a werewolf scimper away so fast. When she looked up and saw the deadly glare with which the Dark Lord was following Marcus, she understood.
'Marcus,' Voldemort said softly when the werewolf opened the door. Marcus cringed but faced him nevertheless. 'You've always been loyal to me. Don't make anymore mistakes like this and I'll bring you a whimpering redhead who can be a cunt to bear your pups. Trust me, you will enjoy breaking that one.'
Marcus let out a sigh of relief and bowed low. 'Thank you, my Lord. Thank you.'
A click of the door shutting sounded, and silence drew over the corridor. Rose stopped rubbing her thighs, feeling his penetrating gaze now settle on her. Her back throbbed unimaginable. Her nose flared, smelling something so delicious, so attractive, so mouth-wateringly powerful, she had to have it. Her eyes looked up. He merely gestured with his pale hand for her to stand. She leaned forward on the balls of her feet, feeling strangely limber and strong.
Yes, she would stand and then …
She pounced.
Voldemort sidestepped her attack and caught her tightly. His hand was in her hair, forcing her head back. Her teeth bared, she snapped at him, trying to reach his throat. She struggled with all her might. His grip on her waist tightened. He didn't even break out in a sweat. His scent was all around her now. His power was. She needed it.
Submit.
His command echoed through her mind, but she wouldn't. She had to take what was his.
You are mine, and you will listen.
Rose whimpered when something tightened around her neck. She wouldn't be collared. She'd collar him. She'd take that power and make it her own. She thrashed and kicked, screaming, trying to tear into him but being unable to reach. It hurt inside. So badly.
I'm your Alpha.
A strange connection flooded her mind. Her yellow eyes flashed and then glazed over. Her whole body went slack in his hold.
That's a good girl. Stand.
She got her feet back under her and stood up.
Hold still.
He tore off her shirt, hissing when he saw the deep scratches on her back. Her bra, torn underwear, and shoes disappeared with a mere snap of his fingers. She liked being naked before her Alpha as he stalked around her, his eyes drawing all over her body. Such a display of power. She wanted him to take her. Now.
'I see I'm right on time before the shift would've been irreversible,' Voldemort muttered, taking out his wand.
He stepped next to her side, placing his hand on her belly, his power invading all her senses. She swayed on her feet when his magic penetrated her back and trailed all over her wounds.
More, she needed so much more.
Then he flexed his magic into her belly. Her back arched; her head tossed back, and she howled. Her walls clenched in need. His power moved on through her, capturing her strength and forcing it to follow his lead. When he ended at the wounds on her back, she whimpered.
'No, no, no,' she repeated in a daze as her strength slipped away from her. 'No, no, no.'
She didn't want this, but he was her Alpha and she had to obey.
Calm down.
His order echoed through her mind, halting her panic. Trails of dark smoke exited her back. When it was all gone, an emptiness so pervasive engulfed her. So weak now. She had liked that strength inside. She wanted it back. One by one her wounds on her back healed under his touch. There was no more pain. There was nothing. His fingers slipped under her chin, turning her head to face him. He seemed to be searching for something on her face. She had no idea what it was and didn't care either. He'd taken it all and there was nothing left.
That wasn't a power to aspire, Rose.
His palm came to rest on her forehead, and then she reared back, looking around in confusion.
'What?'
Her hands flew to her back, patting there and feeling only skin, not even a scar. How? Those were cursed wounds. She'd seen Bill and knew enough about werewolves who lived like that constantly to know there was no cure for the wounds they inflicted.
'Why am I not turning?' she asked, looking up. She knew she'd been on the brink of it. Her senses were still overwhelmed from the impact of those heightened abilities. She'd rather liked being that limber and strong.
'Because you were already mine.'
'I'm not yours,' she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. Feeling her naked breasts against her arms made her realise how exposed she was, causing a sudden heatwave to rise on her face.
He shrugged. 'You'll see reason soon enough.'
'Do you mind?' she snapped, gesturing at herself.
'No, not at all,' he replied with a wink, his eyes following her hands.
Ugh.
He stepped closer, invading her personal space and making her hold her breath when he took a hold of both her hands and turned them around, investigating the marred skin with his fingertips in a most intimate gesture. She furrowed her brow when his touch removed the scarred tissue and redness. His magic was like a cooling breeze through her stiff muscles. She flexed her fingers inside his hold. She could move them easily again, like she'd never been burned. He let go and slipped one hand into her hair.
'Such an interesting colour your mother chose,' he said slowly, drawing a curl around his fingers. 'For obvious reasons of course. Tell me Rose, what would you give me for some clothes?'
'Nothing.'
'Hmm…' he pondered. 'Let's make this interesting. I'll clothe you for a simple answer to a personal question I'm about to ask you.'
'I want my old clothes back,' she immediately said. He wasn't going to trick her into answering a question and stick her in some kind of whorish outfit.
'Deal,' he said, a little too fast to Rose's taste.
She was missing something. He looked like the cat that had eaten the canary and then some more.
His mouth went to her ear as he whispered against her skin, 'Whose life would you rather I'd save, your father or your mother's?'
Outraged, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away. He smashed her back into the wall. Her ears were still ringing as he placed both hands on either side of her head and stared straight into her face.
'Answer the question, Rose,' he hissed barely above a whisper.
'That's not a choice anyone can make,' she snapped.
'You'd be surprised how many make it in a split second.'
'And they'll regret that choice for the rest of their lives,' Rose bit back, feeling sick. He was sick.
'Added bonus. Choose, Rose, or perhaps you'd like them both to perish? Because I warn you, that option is still on the table if I do nothing.'
Horrified, she stared into that blank mask masquerading as a face. Her parents were dying?
'Your mother activated too much of her dark magic. The hold I have over her will kill her for that if I won't allow a form of relief. Your father might grant her that relief, but if I allow him to, it will kill him. So choose, Rose.'
Rose looked down. She needed a break from the intensity and joy in his gaze. Voldemort had said he wanted her mother. He clearly was more interested in keeping her alive than her father. She didn't think he'd allow her mother to die.
Well, at least not now already.
Her father, however, it had been pretty clear in his entire demeanour that her father was expendable to him.
'You'll save who I choose, no matter what?'
'Yes.'
'My father,' she said, eyeing that blank facade with a touch of triumph.
'You'd let your mother die, just like that?' Voldemort said evenly.
She really wished she could read what he was thinking now.
'Even though she's the only one who truly understands you?'
'You're letting my mother die. I'm saving my father.'
'Oh, clever, you think this will force me to save them both.'
'I answered your question.'
'Good point,' he said, removing his hand off the wall and tapping her on top of her head twice before boxing her head back in.
In its wake, her clothes slid back over her body. She thought being clothed would be less embarrassing, but the way the fabric touched her everywhere had her digging her nails into the palms of her hands. Her bra confined her breasts in place as if he were holding them with both hands. Her shirt slid over her skin like a smooth caress of fingers. It was like he was touching her everywhere. Worse was that some of it felt really, really nice.
'Stop that,' she said weakly when her underwear slid up her legs.
She didn't see him move but her knickers halted at her knees.
'If you choose no underwear now, that will be a lasting choice,' he said warningly. 'Not one pair will ever go higher than your knees.'
She swallowed. 'Okay.'
'Okay, what? No knickers or continue.'
'Continue.'
He smirked at that. She clenched her teeth when it slid up her thighs, especially on the inside it was almost unbearable. She pushed the back of her head into the wall and let out a shuddering breath when her knickers settled into place. She was so, so glad it had been too hot to wear a pantyhose. Her shoes folded around her feet. Thankfully that was the end of it.
'Need a clean pair of knickers already?' he taunted, making a furious blush rise on her cheeks.
'You're a pervert.'
'I can do what I want with what's mine,' he said.
His eyes suddenly drew sideways in thought, and he placed his fingers on her already opened mouth, stopping her denial. Voldemort stepped back, drew his wand and chanted under his breath.
'What did you do?' Rose asked nervously when he was done casting.
'Made sure the right person took the full load of the bond's vengeance.'
Her mouth was dry, and she didn't dare ask. She was about to lose one of her parents, and she couldn't bear it if her mother died tonight because she'd miscalculated Lord Voldemort's interest in her.
'Ron Weasley is dying right now,' Voldemort answered her unasked question.
'So you lied to me,' she said coolly, ignoring that slight brush of relief going through her. This wasn't her fault. She'd tried to save him, even knowing it was probably futile.
'No,' he said. 'You asked me to save your father. He's quite well.'
'What's that supposed to mean!?' she yelled, losing her temper and slapping him hard in the face.
His eyes flashed red as she was on the verge of taking another swing when he grabbed her hair and placed his hand on her chest. His hips pressed her tightly up against the wall. She screamed out in pain when something stabbed her harshly in the chest right where the palm of his hand was located.
'Behave,' he ordered in a low hiss. 'I won't stand for any silly tantrums.'
Her arm dropped. She caught her breath, stilling, noticing that her lesser movements lowered the impact of the pain he inflicted upon her. Rose really, really wanted to hurt him, but she felt woefully outmatched and powerless. They stood like that, unmoving, that penetrating dark gaze of his clearly assessing her compliance.
'Good,' he finally said, moving his fingers against her chest and withdrawing whatever the hell had stabbed her. The pain was gone instantaneously, but her heart still thrummed in her throat. 'Now, I don't suppose you've heard of House of Elite?'
'Some ancient wizarding BDSM club in London,' she replied.
'Your mother is quite the regular.'
Rose shrugged. 'So? None of my business.'
'Without Ron Weasley.'
'They have an understanding,' Rose snarled.
She didn't care what he was trying to pull. She wasn't falling for it.
'Not right after the war, they didn't.'
That got her attention.
'Quite popular, too, your mother. Excellent Dominatrix, but her mind needed stilling from all the terrible memories. For that she needed to submit. Quite a picky sub, your mother. Extremely cautious in whom she allowed near and never truly, never fully submitting. She always had a failsafe. Something that allowed her to regain control in a flash. Something that made her feel safe as she allowed anyone to take control to clear her brain. It was a clever failsafe, took me weeks to figure out a counter. But when I had, I made my move.'
Rose had a frightening feeling about where this was leading.
'You see, Rose, I'm an established Master at that club. A well-known name, predating Lord Voldemort's second rising.'
His dark eyes gleamed in vicious triumph and it took all her self-restraint to not snap as he continued.
'Still, your mother was distrustful but curious at the same time after hearing some of the rumours of my capabilities. I knew eventually she'd come, and she did, thinking her failsafe would protect her. Her fear when she realised it didn't—when she was strapped bare before me with no out—was intoxicating, Rose. When I finally established the absoluteness of my control, her submission was a sight for sore eyes.'
Sweet Salazar, he's fucking obsessed with Mum!
She realised in shock she'd looked straight at him while thinking that but relaxed when he clearly hadn't caught on to her thoughts. His eyes were unseeing. A pink sheen had erupted on his cheeks as he seemed caught in reliving the memories. He appeared positively feverish as he talked. She'd heard how he could speak at length to an audience, but right now she wondered if he even recalled she was there, despite the firm hold he had on her.
'She took the pain I inflicted and begged for more. She got so wet for me; I brought her to the brink of orgasm and denied her a release. Over and over and over again. I tortured the little Mudblood further than anyone else, and she thanked me for it.'
Merlin, he loves this.
'She left that night with her mind at rest, at ease. I let her go. Something I hadn't planned to do, but she was back a week later, her mind in turmoil again. Being a dutiful Master, I obliged.'
Of course you did.
There's got to be a way for Mum to use this hold she has over him.
If she knows …
'This time I made her mine fully. I claimed her womb and told her that I'd claimed it. She knew it belonged to me now and she kept you,' he said, his eyes landing on Rose.
She held her breath. A part of her had known this was coming. A part of her had always known she was different. Different from Hugo. Different from her dad. It surprised her how it didn't hurt, how she felt nothing at all at this revelation. Her mum had always been there for her. Her mum had always understood her when others had not. Why hadn't she told her?
'I watched her belly grow while I beated her,' Voldemort said, his fingers stroking the edge of Rose's face almost reverently. 'I watched her mind find ease and stillness. I watched her brilliance return. She picked up her studies again. I watched her viciousness return in her actions. Your mother is marvelous when she doesn't hold back, Rose.'
He shook his head.
'When she got you, her little black-haired baby with an affinity to snakes—'
I hate snakes!
'—she knew then. She magicked your hair red and came storming into my dungeon with you and her wand in hand. Now you probably think she was there to arrest me, but no, Rose, your mother's concern was with you. Not the rest of the world. Not herself. She knew that to suppress a magical ability as strong as Parseltongue it required both parents. So she demanded my help in exchange for her silence.'
'She wouldn't,' Rose interrupted. She might not be a Legilimens, but that didn't mean she couldn't spot such a blatant lie. 'She wouldn't betray Harry like that.'
'Of course she wouldn't. I knew she was lying even though she'd gotten rather good at it and was able to block me from entering her mind by that time. But—' His long, slender fingers stroked through Rose's hair. '—it fitted with my plans for you, so I complied. But now I feel you've earned the right to be all you should be, little Slytherin.'
He pressed his hand right on the junction of her two collarbones and cast. A tingling, slithering sensation slid from her skin through her throat, making her swallow in reflex. When nothing happened, Rose looked up in confusion, but he was still rambling on about her mother.
Obsessed much?
'When I had blocked your ability, she spread her legs for me. I admit her plan to Obliviate me of my knowledge of who I was would've worked if the Aurors would've entered the dungeon as she'd planned, but alas for Hermione, my true dungeon was never located at House of Elite. The door worked as a passageway if I needed it. When I noticed my alarms go off, I figured out her clever plan and found the most suitable punishment. I Obliviated her of her knowledge of my identity. And then I tortured that sneaky Mudblood until that delicious body of her could take no more. Her devotion was glorious. I fucked her roughly again and again and again, until she bled for me. She gave her all, and I rewarded her by taking it. I could feel her pain when she returned a week later and her Master had vanished from House of Elite, but she was strong enough to do without me then and I had a reign to prepare for. Hermione Jean Granger has always been destined to be mine since the day she was born, Rose, and I never relinquish what's mine.'
Rose understood the underlying message perfectly.
'You may be—' she paused, frowning at how words exited her mouth.
'Try again,' Voldemort said, his voice sibilantly. 'Don't overthink it.'
'Am I speaking Parseltongue?'
'You were listening to it ever since I removed the blockade.'
'I was?'
'Yes, and yes, you are speaking it, but you're a tad off. It'll get better with practise.'
'I don't want to practise. No!' She interrupted in English when he opened his mouth. 'You may be my biological father, but that doesn't make you my real father and it doesn't mean you own me. I'm my own person, and so is my mother otherwise you wouldn't have had to put those magical restraining bands on her.'
'Oh well, aren't you the clever one?' Voldemort hissed, grabbing her jaw. 'Just not clever enough to keep your mouth shut when you should've, I see.'
'Let me go!' Rose yelled, struggling.
'You will behave and show me proper respect and reverence—' Rose snorted. '—daughter, or your mother will suffer greatly at every slight you place upon my person.'
'You're mad.'
'That's one. I should warn you that you will not only see what happens to her but also feel everything she feels. She's got quite a large stamina. I wonder about you though. You've grown up so sheltered.'
'You …' she trailed off, confused at the tears that ran down her cheeks.
'Want to finish that, Rose?'
'What do you want?' she asked, throwing her hands in the air helplessly.
'Simple. You're going to go home and pick up your normal life. You'll take your brother with you to King's Cross Station and finish Hogwarts.'
'He'll wonder where our parents will be. Dad,' Rose emphasised snidely, 'always takes us.'
'You can tell him his dad died or that he went to work early on some Auror emergency. Your choice.'
'Then Mum—'
'Please don't try such an obvious lie, it's insulting.'
'How do you know I won't go straight to Uncle Harry?'
'Because you know why you can't, Rose.'
'My mother seemed to—'
'Your mother would risk everyone and everything to keep you safe, including her best friend. Do you honestly want to be the reason I have to inform her Harry Potter is dead and in vain no less.'
'You haven't been that successful at killing him before.'
'I won't be the one doing it, Rose. Ah, I can see your mind going over who would. Trust me when I say you've not got them all.'
'You can't keep my mother prisoner like this,' Rose whispered.
'Can't I?' He raised his eyebrow at her.
Rose bit her lip. 'She's the Minister for Magic. People will start searching for her when she doesn't show up. A lot of people.'
'Even Ministers go on holidays. And once she comes to her senses and realises there is no other choice than bow before me, she'll be allowed to do her job and execute my wishes.'
Voldemort's face regained that almost feverish colour. Rose found him positively demented if he for one second thought her mother would do her job in a manner to satisfy his needs.
'Now, go be my good girl, daughter,' he breathed before grabbing her arm—his wand swirling above his head.
'I'll know if you're not,' he added lightly, right before tossing her into a strange whirlwind.
She crashed into her bed, her favourite pyjamas already on her body. If she'd not known better, she would've thought to have just woken from a terrible nightmare. She tossed and turned, but eventually got out of her bed, grabbing her wand from her nightstand as if it never had been taken from her. There was no way she could sleep tonight. She had to think. She had to figure a way out of this. She went downstairs, finding the house eerily quiet even though it wasn't the first night she'd been home alone with Hugo. She poured some chocolate milk into a mug, heated it up with her wand and walked through the kitchen when she saw a light go on above the Potters' porch.
He never sleeps well.
She knew Harry would sit on the porch in order not to wake his family. He'd be alone now. She could talk to him without anyone knowing. When she'd been little, she'd had a lot of bad dreams and often wandered to Uncle Harry upon seeing him awake through her window. The temptation to run to him as she'd done then was great. He always made her feel so safe.
'I'll know if you're not.'
Could she risk it?
If it had been just her hide on the line, the answer would've been easy. Her mother had wanted her to go, but she didn't know everything she needed to.
'He lies.'
Her chocolate milk went cold as she just stood there, debating whether or not to open the kitchen door and go over there. It wasn't just her and her mother that Voldemort had threatened, he'd taken Lily and Albus, too, and clearly had done something to Aunt Ginny. Harry would want to know. She didn't even want to think about the length of the corridors of that place, the amount of rooms he had there. All those people and creatures. Disgusting as she might find them, they still didn't deserve to be locked up like that. She wished she had a clue as to where it was located. What on earth could she tell Harry? Would he even believe her or think she'd had a bad dream? He might if he saw her parents were missing. Then again, he could also think they had been called into the office. It wasn't like they were still little and in need of babysitters.
She could show him she could speak Parseltongue!
He had to believe her then. She placed the mug down, grabbed the doorknob and turned it. A sizzling noise came from the doorframe. She yanked hard on the door but pulled away in shock when the frame had obviously fused itself tight with the door. The opened kitchen window her eyes drew to next immediately shut with a thud before that sizzling noise followed, too.
'Two,' his voice reverberated in the kitchen.
She looked around, panicking ever so slightly, but Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. How did he—?
Then she recalled her dad had done Voldemort's bidding.
She couldn't stay here. Hugo couldn't stay here. This house wasn't safe. They had to get to Hogwarts.
- 3
- 4
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Yes, Minister